Forbidden
by yougonnapayforthatmango
Summary: His lips were pressed against hers, hardness against her softness. More, her hungry mind screamed. Her hands scratched the skin of his shoulders, of his back. When he sunk into her, it took all her strength not to scream out in relief. As if she were on fire, and this was the cool water that would save her from the biting flames... Clace OOC/ M for Lemons & Swearing
1. New Daddy

**AN: So there are probably ten other stories I should be updating at the moment, but I couldn't shake the idea of this one! This is probably the longest chapter I have _ever_ written. The concept is a little eye raising, and some of you may not like it, though I hope a few of you do! It takes place in the 70s, just to clarify that before anyone gets confused. Sorry for any grammar errors because I wrote this in one sitting!**

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Clary's eyes scanned the floor of the airport, looking for a familiar pair of heels her mother was sure to wear. Her gaze halted on the pink stilettos, sighing to herself when a squeal followed them. _Oh, mother,_ she thought to herself. Jocelyn practically waddled to her daughter, her arms outstretched as she crossed a lengthy distance. A salmon colored dress that barely reached her mother's knees - refusing to cling to her shoulders - covered a small portion of her mother's body. There were some changes in Jocelyn's face. Like, the fact that it was caked in makeup. Though, that wasn't really a _change._ Maybe she was just picking up on the happy glow that had been gone when Clary was sent to boarding school. Jocelyn's hair was dyed as well. Where her fiery curls used to roll down was replaced by straight - almost bronze - locks.

"My baby!" Jocelyn cried out, her arms locking around Clary's neck. Clary could feel her mother's manicured nails tangle in her natural red curls. The ridges of Jocelyn's pearl necklace rubbed at Clary's shoulder when she pulled back. "Oh, how was school?! What grade are you in now?!" She grinned, pinching at her daughter's cheeks and forcing crimson to flush the gripped skin.

"Mom, I… didn't you get the invitation in the mail?" Clary asked her mother. "I wrote a letter to Grandpa and Grandpa to send you one too." Jocelyn's face fell briefly before she kissed the cheeks she had previously been pinching.

"Oh, Clary, oh sweetheart, they _died._ " Clary felt her heart shatter, no room for tears when she was in fact pissed at her mother for leaving that information out when she sent a plane ticket to her child. Jocelyn guided her to an empty bench, smoothing Clary's hair with her small hand.

"When?" Clary croaked out, brushing away a stray tear. Jocelyn wrapped an arm around one of her shoulders. Her mother's skin was damp, a side effect from the blasting California heat. She tucked a curl behind Clary's head before answering softly, sweetly.

"Baby, there's no need to cry. _It was two years ago._ " She said as if it were the broadcast for the evening weather. Clary shot up from the bench, her green eyes blazing. Her white shirt cropped up and revealed her flat stomach. Jocelyn pulled it back down, her sharp nails grazing her daughter's abdomen.

"Two years!" The younger redhead snapped. "I was at school for _seven,_ and you just _forgot to mention it to me?"_ Clary hissed. Jocelyn's eyes watered with fresh tears, the thick lather of her mascara tinting the salty drops as they slid down the length of her face. She felt guilty for making her mother cry, _but two years?_ Her grandparents were better parents then Jocelyn. In fact, Clary feared that she loved them more. Though there wasn't a point now that they were _dead_.

"I'm sorry," Jocelyn blubbered. Clary let out a sigh as she sat back down on the bench, her mother hugging her tightly and sobbing. _Wasn't she supposed to be the one crying?_ Clary thought to herself as she rubbed her mother's back. "I just - I just didn't want you to be _sad!"_ Jocelyn continued on with her incessant sobbing. Clary let out a deep sigh, groaning when she realized things were going back to the way they were. It was no secret that Clary was sent to boarding school because there was no way her mother could handle single parenting. After her father's death, no later than a week, Clary had been shipped off to some place in New York. _The Big Apple_ , as Jocelyn put it.

"No, no it's okay, Mom. I appreciate you looking out for me!" She lied. Lying was something she had to do quite often with her mother. Often putting Jocelyn's feelings before her own, sacrificing opportunities for the sake of her mother's smile. Clary was more a parent than _her own mother._

"Really? You're not mad?" Jocelyn sniffled. Clary nodded before she was locked in a crushing hug. "Oh thank you! Thank you, baby!" Her mother sighed in relief. Clary let out a laugh, probably the only one for the day if her mother had anything to do with it.

"You don't have any more surprises for me, do you?" It was intended to be a joke, but when her mother bit on her lower lip, Clary wanted to kick herself… and then Jocelyn. "Seriously, Mom?" Jocelyn gave a sheepish grin, kissing Clary's cheek before speaking.

"This is a good one though!" Her mother insisted. She waited patiently, her hands locked on her thighs so that she didn't try to throw them in the air in complete disbelief. Surprises were never a good thing. Never. The past five minutes could support that theory. "I'm being honest!"

"Okay, then. What is it?" She responded.

"I've met someone!" Jocelyn grinned, her shoulders shaking with excitement as she barely managed to stay seated. Clary raised a brow at her mother, urging her to go on. "Oh, Clary! He's _perfect._ Not to mention in _all the right places,"_ Jocelyn wiggled her eyebrows and while her daughter nearly choked on the air she was breathing.

" _Mother,"_ Clary frowned before Jocelyn erupted in a fit of laughter, lightly shoving her daughter on the shoulder. "Can you try to keep the conversation appropriate?" Her daughter pleaded.

"Fine. _Fine."_ Jocelyn ran a hand over her face, wiping away the smile and pretending to act stern, then letting out a few giggled. "But back to perfect! Clary, he's an angel! God, he has these tattoos - and his muscles are mouth watering - but Jesus the way his pants fit _just_ right…" Clary blocked out the rest of the conversation, just nodding her head as her mother described what she envisioned to be a biker. Or a complete fantasy. All the men Jocelyn talked over the phone about had _something_ that made their infallible image crumble to bits and pieces. Not weeks after Jocelyn described these _angelic_ men, she'd call her daughter, crying that they had left her. And Clary, being as understanding as she could - sent her some money so that she move out of the man's house and find some place of her own. When Jocelyn was finished blabbering about the man in her life, she and Clary both stood up. Walking out of the airport - Clary had no idea as to what car her mother drove.

The boys at her school would casually pass the name of some cars. They clung to her memories, especially when they talked about certain models being photographed in front of them. The only reason for this was when she slammed her fist into Raphael Santiago's face when he compared her to one of the models. When her mother led her to a car with its brown paint reflecting a heavy amount of sunlight and a black roof. The thing that caught her attention were the words _Cortina_ and _Ford._ At first, Clary was about to laugh at her mother, appreciate her joke. Then, when Jocelyn unlocked her door, Clary felt the urge to report a stolen car because there was _no way_ her mother could ever afford a car as nice as this one. Not with her constant shopping sprees.

"Sweetheart, why are you standing there? Come on, we have to get home!" Jocelyn chuckled. Clary walked to the passenger door, getting in without a word or refusal. "Don't you just love it?" She asked her daughter. Clary wordlessly agreed, her chin bobbing up and down as her mother reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a box of cigarettes. _Embassy,_ of course. Her mother refused to use a different brand. Clary heard the sound of a lighter sparking a flame, Jocelyn's curse as she realized it was empty of fuel. "Dammit, Clare, can you hand your Momma one of them matches?" Her fingers snapped and pointed at the glove compartment where she had retrieved the cigarettes. Clary did as her mother asked.

"Mom, how could you afford this?" She asked, watching her mother place her painted lips on the nicotine stick, smudging the paper with her red lipstick as she withdrew it from her mouth. Her acrylic nails had a firm grip on it as she held her hand out the window as to not drown her daughter in the smell of tobacco. "Seriously, did you steal someone's car?" Clary guffawed, messing with the seatbelt as it was stinging her hands. She watched the yellow dashes on the road morph into one as her mother drove.

"Clarissa Adele! Have you not listened to a _word_ I said?" Jocelyn chided, tapping on her cigarette that was quickly turning to ash scattered along the highway. Clary looked down at her jeans, wishing her brother was there to blurt out something to distract their mother. Taking in her daughter's silence, Jocelyn continued. "He bought it for me." She explained.

"Your boyfriend?" Clary questioned.

"No." Jocelyn grinned. This confused her daughter. _Did her mother have other men in her life? Stealing their money as well as their love?_ The men Jocelyn usually associated with were jerks, the kind that expected their every need to be attended to.

"Then who?" She said with a raised brow.

"Why should I tell my daughter who _obviously_ hasn't been listening to word I say? You'll just forget anyways." Jocelyn huffed, her free hand holding onto the cigarette that was fading away in the wind. The radio was broadcasting the disappearance of college students in Olympia and her mother quickly changed the station.

"What was that about?" Clary began

"Oh, just some missing girls is all. Don't want to worry you on your first night back." Jocelyn reasoned before grinning brightly at her daughter. "But if you _must_ know, my boyfriend didn't buy this car - my _fiance_ did." Jocelyn squealed, tapping the skinny steering wheel anxiously with her fake nails. Clary had to open her window, trying to breath after hearing what her mother just revealed.

"Mom, _you're engaged?"_ She choked. Jocelyn nodded eagerly, grinning and showing off the glimmering diamond on her ring finger. It hadn't even been a decade since her father's passing and already her mother appeared to have forgotten about him. "Why didn't you tell me this over the phone? When is the wedding?" Clary questioned. Her mother mumbled something under her breath as though her answer would shock her daughter. Which it probably would. "What was that?"

"Tomorrow, but Clary, he's a great man!" Jocelyn reasoned.

"Is that why you sent me plane tickets? Because you wanted my _blessing_?" She wanted to be sick at the childish nature of her _own mother._ What did Jocelyn expect from her? After hearing about the death of her grandparents, and then her mother's engagement, there really no generosity left in Clary. "Mother, why do you always wait till the very last second to tell me something?" Clary groaned, throwing her hands in the air and nearly hitting the ceiling of the car.

"Just meet him, Clary. That's all I'm asking. _Please,_ meet him before you make any assumptions." Jocelyn begged. Tears stung at the younger redhead's eyes and she began to furiously wipe at them with the back of her arm. "Don't cry, Baby. I didn't _mean_ to make you upset. Not at all!" Her mother insisted. "Look, if you don't like the guy, then I'll leave him. Plain and simple," she bargained.

"Really? You'd do that for me? You'd leave this man for me?" This surprised Clary, as her mother would hardly sacrifice anything for her. She'd been selfish from the day her daughter was born, handing her off to Valentine and partying with strange crowds. There were few times when her father lost his cool and slapped her mother, which led to Jocelyn taking Clary to her grandparents. Eventually, Valentine couldn't take the constant pushing and pulling, and ended his own life. The life insurance, unfortunately, didn't cover suicide - leaving the Fairchild's broke and in debt. Clary's adoptive brother - Jonathan - couldn't take Jocelyn's insanity and left her to live with a distant uncle of theirs. Though he promised to return for his little sister someday. Their grandparents paid for Clary to go to a boarding school while her mother got her act together.

Which _obviously_ didn't happen.

"Of _course I would,_ sweet baby. I would do almost anything for you." The last statement was probably a lie because Jocelyn would do almost _nothing_ for her daughter. "I'm sure you'll like him! Your brother does." She added.

"Really? Jonathan likes this guy?" Clary asked suspiciously. The calls Clary shared with her brother were often filled with the disgust for her new 'boyfriend.' Jonathan would go on and on about how _badly_ he wanted to slam his fists into their snobbish faces. What made this man any different? What made this man willing to settle down with an emotionally unstable woman and her two children? Three if you counted Charles, who was living with his father Lucian Graymark. His twenty-second birthday had just passed, Clary had even sent him a birthday card. "What about… Charles?" She almost whispered.

"Your brother will always side with Luke." Jocelyn snapped, puffing out another plume of smoke into the California atmosphere. Jocelyn had Charles when she was at the tender age of fifteen, and ever since then has resented him. Claiming him as her _childhood mistake._ Not even eighteen yet when she finally gave birth to Clary - with Valentine already having a son of his own - Jonathan. Not _really_ his son, but his stepsister had dropped him off one day and never came back. "But I sent him an invitation if he wishes to join our family." Her mother pulled into the garage of a large house. The grass was green, greener than most California yards when the sun stripped the yards of life. Large windows cut through the cedar material of the home, showing a the wooden floor of a living room adorned with a white rug and a scarlet couch. Even the stone pathway to the front door looked pricey to Clary. Perhaps this was because she'd never lived on the wealthy side of her home state.

"Is this his house?" She asked her mother whose heels clicked on the smooth rocks. A yellow mailbox was built next to the front door so that the occupants wouldn't have to walk outside to retrieve their mail. Purple flowers stuck out of the healthy grass, a stone angel holding up a glass ball as if for someone to take. _Not bad,_ Clary shrugged as her mother unlocked the red door of the house. Some blurred glass inside the door revealed a moving figure of someone with blond hair and an above average stature.

At first, Clary assumed it was her brother - Jonathan. She flung her arms around him when the doors opened, only to find her body barely able to wrap around impressive muscle and warm skin. Her green eyes roamed his honey colored tone, spotting a few tattoos of black and white ink. A gold band that he wore on his left hand revealed who this person was and she immediately felt embarrassed. Mortified, really.

"Oh!" She gasped, pushing back on his biceps to settle back on the floor. Golden eyes looked at her curiously, his pink lips stretching into a grin as he put her down. His caramel lashes lowered, casting shadows on his angular cheeks. Her heart thudded in her chest, which she assumed was because of the whole _jumping into a strangers arms,_ and such. Amber waves brushed across his smooth forehead, her fingers itching to push them away from his eyes. _Jesus,_ she thought as he flashed her a crooked grin and outstretched his arm to shake her hand.

"Your mother has told me a lot about you." He said in a husky voice, taking her small hand carefully in his, gently shaking it. "Beautiful, just as she said." His golden gaze darkened momentarily before she had to turn her stare away, fearing vengeance from her blush.

"Really? Because I can't same the same for you Mr…?" Clary didn't know what to call him. She didn't even know his name!

"Please, Jace is fine. Really. Mr. Herondale was my father." He smiled. _Jace,_ Clary mouthed, loving the name instantly. It fit him with his young face and manly persona. _Jace_ adjusted the black shirt he had on when she noticed his skin was damp. Clary looked down and sure enough, her white shirt had wet shadows across it. So damp, in fact, that you could see her bra daisy-designed bra. She saw the tips of his ears go pink as he cleared his throat. "Err, sorry. Your brother and I were taking a swim…" Jace apologized. Jocelyn walked up to him, running her hand up his slick skin and whispering something into his ear.

"Clary?" She heard someone call out, turning her head to the boy she initially thought Jace was. He'd gotten taller, his hair shorter. He was skinny, though there was muscle wrapped around his lanky arms and legs. His chest was bare, but at least he wore some shorts. On his stomach were sturdy muscles beginning to show. _Jonathan?_ She questioned, taking a few steps in his direction before he ran and scooped her into his arms. "Still a child, I see." He chuckled as he twirled her around the living room. Clary slapped her palms against his chest where water droplets scattered.

"Let me down! You're all wet!" She giggled. Jonathan kissed her cheek with a resounding smack before tossing her on one of the scarlet couches, taking a spot on the floor in front of her so as to not dampen the fabric. Jace and her mother were still talking, so Clary decided to catch up with her brother. He looked up at her with dark eyes. Curiosity flickering in them.

"How was the Big Apple?" Jonathan asked his sister. She grinned sheepishly at him, pulling down the waistline of her jeans and flashing him an ink mark on her hipbone. "What, you got a tattoo!" He gasped after making sure Jocelyn wasn't listening in on the conversation. She nodded at him. Slowly, he lifted his hand and brushed the dark markings with his fingertips. "Holy Shit,"Jonathan whistled.

"Jonathan Morgenstern!" Jocelyn snapped. "I won't tolerate language like that, young man!"

"Sorry," he groaned before pulling his hand back from his adoptive sister's hip. "Did it hurt?" Jonathan asked, his voice quieter than before. Clary scrunched her nose up, remembering the searing agony that the needle brought her in the tattoo parlor.

"It felt worse than when Jocelyn had to pull glass out of my hand." She grimaced. Jonathan patted her knee, giving her a sheepish grin. "Honestly, I don't know why I got it in the first place. I think - no, I know why. I was with some boy and he said something about liking girls with ink… and so I got one." She detected her brother's eye roll as she told her story. Clary remembered the look on Sebastian's face as they got matching tattoos. For some reason, they decided to get an egyption eye instead of hearts. Not like it would have been better after their breakup.

"While you were out living the wild life, _I_ was trying to find someone." Jonathan began. Clary's brows pursed together as she thought of just _who_ her brother was trying to find.

"Who?" She asked after her unsuccessful mental investigation.

"My mother." Ah, his mother. The one that had abandoned him when he was a few months old. Valentine never delved on the subject, declaring that Jocelyn was the maternal figure he needed in his life. Though, Jocelyn was barely seventeen when she was pregnant with his first biological child - Clary taking her mother's surname _Fairchild_. _Thus making Jonathan a true Morgenstern_. There was no way Jocelyn was mature enough to raise a child that wasn't her own. Even one that _was._ And that caused an instant bitterness between the two that only intensified as Jonathan aged.

" _Why?_ Jonathan, that woman _left_ you!" Clary cried out, debating whether to strangle or hug her brother. She chose the latter and join him on the floor, her thighs touching his soaked shorts as she pulled him in close. "She hurt you. My brother. I don't like the idea of you meeting her." She admitted.

"If you had been raised with only your father, and then watched as he married, wouldn't you still want to meet Jocelyn? As bad a she is?" Her brother tested. She bit the inside of her cheek, questioning herself if she actually would _want_ to meet someone as immature as her mother.

"I suppose I'd be hesitant to do so. But - Jonathan - _we're talking about you._ Not me. And if it were up for me to decide, then I'd never let you meet this woman who could leave her baby and father of her child. Charles still keeps his distance from Mom." Clary answered.

"Maybe I just need a wild night in New York to get over these feelings. Huh?" Jonathan grinned, nudging her on the side.

" _Please_ , the guy left me a few days after we got the tattoos." She laughed.

"Well, I still think it's fucking awesome." He grinned before standing up, shaking his arms and legs around - scatting water in the process. His lips met her cheek again before he muttered something about washing the chlorine from his _muscles._ Jocelyn waved him off while saying something about needing to get her car washed.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come?" Jace asked her.

"No, I think I better learn on my own. Clary? Are you okay staying here for a bit? I don't want you to be bored." Jocelyn asked her daughter. Jace put a hand to his chest, groaning as if in pain.

"Am I too boring, Clary?" Jace asked her with the ghost of a smile curling his lips. She shook her head, holding in laughter as her mother rolled her eyes at her soon-to-be husband. Clary supposed he wasn't _so_ bad. Maybe a little sarcastic, but not bad. Plus, her mother seemed to like this guy. Love or not, if he kept her rooted, it would make Clary's life a hell of a lot less difficult.

"I think I'll be fine. Maybe I can get to know the old man." Jace scoffed at her name calling, crossing his muscular arms before kissing his fiancee goodbye. Clary turned away from the sight, even if it was just a small peck on the lips. Something inside her didn't like the idea of her mother showing affection with this man. Courtesy be damned.

"Goodbye, my love. I'll be missing you." Jocelyn said to Jace as she opened to door.

"As will I," Jace bowed with a grin. When the front door shut, he turned to face her, clapping his hands together as he did so. He approached her in the living room, taking a seat on a black lounge chair. She got off the floor and sat on the couch. _Now what?_ He seemed to aske her through his honey-colored eyes. She'd never seen such a color. It must've been extremely rare.

"Well, we have a good three hours before your mother returns." Jace commented as his fingers tapped against the firm fabric that covered the arms of his seat. _Three hours? To wash a car? Was she that bad? Who took three hours to wash their vehicle, a_ _ **car.**_

"Why is it going to take her three hours to wash her car?" Clary wondered.

"Do you really think that she'd go wash her car without some help? Or even wash a car a _all_?" Jace shook his head, the golden waves moving in his actions. "No, she's going shopping. Like she has been doing for our _entire_ relationship. She thinks I'll get mad at her, but I think the dishonesty is a bit childish." He scowled.

"If you don't mind me asking… how old are you?" Clary began softly. Jace lifted his hands as if to count the numbers on his fingers. _Eight,_ his fingers showed. "Come on! Be serious!" She laughed.

"Okay, if you can't hold in your curiousity, I'm thirty-two." Jace sighed, scrubbing his face with a calloused hand. _So that meant he was four years younger than Jocelyn._ Clary was silent for a few seconds, then resumed her questioning.

"Really? I would've thought that you were in your mid twenties." She shrugged.

"Now you're just teasing me." He scoffed with a grin that he couldn't mask as well as he thought he did. "So, how was New York? And please skip the tattoo story. We all have ours" Jace questioned. Her eyes bugged out of her head, worried that he and her mother had heard the conversation that Jonathan and her were having. _Her mother would be less than pleased to find out her daughter had spent the first weeks of her graduate life testing the limits of her freedom._ "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He questioned.

"Perhaps your ears work better than I thought." She whispered to herself. Since he already knew about the tattoo story, she figured telling him another one of her wild nights wouldn't be _so_ bad. "After I got the tattoo, I sorta realized how out of control I had been."

"Really? You? Out of control?" He gasped in faux surprise. She picked up one of the pillows on the couch and launched it at him. "Hey!" Jace groaned, tossing it back at her and his grin just _begging_ her to throw it again and see his following actions. Clary felt her stomach flutter, adrenaline rushing through her veins as she decided it was best not to get him excited.

"Most of my experiences were from dancing." She confessed.

"I'm guessing not the ballet studios your mother would approve of?" Jace tested. Clary shook her head, wanting to tell him that her mother was no such thing as conservative. Half the state of California had probably offered her a drink when Jocelyn went out partying. She wanted to see how Jace can keep her tamed. Domesticated.

"Maybe." Clary grinned. Jace smiled at her reply, standing up from his seat. "What are you doing? I thought you wanted to hear some of my stories?" Clary asked as she watched him walk up to a record player, messing with the folders on the shelf next to it. She didn't recognize any of the album covers, mainly because all the music she heard was played at clubs and not in the comfort of her home where she could learn more of their artists.

"I want to see if you're a better dancer than me: the old man." Jace answered simply. A loud chanting came from the record player as he set the vinyl disk on it, and then finally a voice began to sing through the repetitions.

" _I can't stop this feelings. Deep inside of me. Girl you just don't realize what you do to me. When you hold me…"_ The voice sang as Jace approached her, taking her small hand in his as he had done when they shook hands. A nervous laughter bubbled from her throat as helped her up from the couch and into a standing position. The chanting automatically stopped, Jace dipping her as it sang " _I'm hooked on a feeling!"_ She yelped as her head nearly met the ground before he lifted her back to a standing position.

"Still think I'm old?" Jace asked, twirling her. "Keep up, youngster! Don't forget we have to dance at the wedding." He laughed as she flattened her palms against his chest to prevent herself from falling.

"Not fair! You know this song!" Clary complained in his arms.

"You haven't been to any good clubs if they didn't play _Blue Swede_ songs." Jace shook his head. "Just admit that I'm a great dancer and we can get over this little obstacle." He bargained.

"Come on! Are you really going to fish for compliments from your fiancee's daughter?" She asked him with a breathless laugh as he dipped her again. Jace shook his head, grinning at her flushed face.

"I'm awesome. Why would I need to fish for compliments?" He questioned as the chanting began again. "And it wouldn't be a compliment. It would be the truth. An honest to God truth." He answered. The music wasn't too loud, but still they failed to notice the approaching footsteps that came from one of the bathrooms.

"You're a good dancer?" Jace's feet stopped immediately, Clary tumbling back and onto the couch. Her shirt rode up, revealing a small portion of her stomach. She quickly pulled it back down, her eyes roaming the living room till they settled on her brother, his hair wet and shining with water droplets. _Shower,_ Clary reminded herself. Jonathan gave her a curious glance before eyeing Jace. "Why were you guys dancing?"

"To practice for the wedding," Jace answered almost too quickly. Her brother accepted his explanation, and began to discuss some details about the wedding such as the exact time, who was invited, the weather. Clary just listened in on their conversation, trying to control the pounding of her heart. _Calm down, just calm down,_ she commanded herself. At least the blush from her cheeks was gone. That was a good thing.

"And what will you be wearing, Clary?" Jonathan asked her. He grinned, knowing she hated to wear dresses. She'd associated dresses with partying, and partying with her mother, and her mother with abandonment. And of course she'd be blubbering mess by the time a friend from school asked _the red one, or the black one?_ It was weird, but it was true. Her mother had royally screwed her over many years ago. Before Valentine had the chance to put a bullet in his chest and bleed out on his bathroom floor while she struggled to save him.

"Ah, I didn't even know there was going to _be_ a wedding. I think I might have something in my suitcase…" She began to think to herself, her words becoming nothing more than her lips moving silently. Jace and Jonathan left her to her thoughts, changing the topic to what the radio had been talking about before her mother had changed the station. Apparently, there were rumors that the woman in Olympia were being abducted at random; that no one was safe.

"Guess we're going to have to keep Clary locked inside." Jace commented. Jonathan agreed wordless, his nodding head infuriating Clary.

"But we don't even _live_ in Olympia!" Clary reasoned. "Plus, I've lived in New York! I can take care of a few pervs." She scoffed with her arms crossed.

"Hey, I'm going to be your stepfather, which means that I have to take care of you. Keep you safe. I can't do that if you're running around like you're invincible." Jace argued. She let out a puff of air, knowing that he was right. It was a dangerous world for people - especially girls - to live in. One moment someone's meeting a nice fella, the next - they're being dragged into a car with their wrists tied behind their backs.

"What about when I go to college?" Clary questioned.

"I'll walk you."

When her mother returned, Clary had been lying on the couch, listening to the songs Jace was playing while Jonathan gave his opinion about each and every one of them. So far, they'd listened to Elvis Presley, The Jackson 5, and some Abba songs she had yet to remember the names of. Jace attempted to hide a smile when Jocelyn discreetly put away some shopping bags as she entered the house. _Damn, he was right about the shopping._ Spending nearly a decade without her mother, Clary felt insulted that this man knew more about Jocelyn than she did.

"Hello my lovelies." Jocelyn grinned as she walked into the living room, a new pair of shoes adorning her feet. Jonathan's face contorted in confusion, wondering where she had got them when Jace had already predicted it to Clary. "I hope I didn't miss too much of your bonding." She worried with a smile.

"Not at all, Mother." Jonathan assured. " _Not at all,"_ he whispered slowly as he saw her new bracelet. Clary laughed as his eye thinned to dark slits, his nostrils flaring as their mother was practically setting money on fire and using that fire to roast money-s'mores. Of course it irritated Clary as well, but she was stuck on Jace knowing more about Jocelyn than her own children. Though, she was gone for most of their childhood. Having spent around a total of a day with them - including labor.

"You know what I was thinking?" Jace began, gaining their attention and stopping the record player. "I was thinking that we could watch _The Exorcist._ They're playing reruns on Tv. Doesn't that sound great?" He questioned. Jocelyn squealed, clapping her hands, while Jonathan rolled his eyes.

"What's _The Exorcist_?" Clary responded. A grin stretched his lips as he scrambled towards the thick television and turned it on. Advertisement echoed across the room and Jace lowered the volume. She saw the golden light seep in through the window, realizing that the sun had fallen and a car had passed. Her skin prickled, recalling some nights at her boarding school when nightfall ment cruel pranks. Not necessarily on her, but the poor students that were unaware of the tradition.

"Are you sure Clary can handle it?" Jonathan asked Jace. This made Clary raise her brows at him. _What exactly was the Exorcist? Was it some form of pornography?_ Instead of answering his question, Jace was pressing through channels with the buttons on the Tv, so fast that they melted into flickers, their words nothing more than blurting. When he landed on the right channel, he cheered, taking a seat on the living room floor and motioning for the family to do the same. Jocelyn - of course - sat next to him. Jonathan forced Clary to take the other spot next to Jace for fear of an awkward moment between them. She groaned and plopped down next to her soon-to-be stepfather, letting out a sigh when Jace nudged her. "When's it coming on?" Jonathan began again.

"Twenty minutes, maybe? I saw a commercial for it yesterday." Jace answered.

"I'll go make some popcorn!" Jocelyn announced, kicking off her heels as she dashed out of the living room. The boys laughed at her while Clary groaned internally. She tried her hardest to block out their conversation, counting in her head. When she was about to reach one thousand, Jocelyn came back in the room with a few blanket in her hands. Her mother tossed the blankets at them. "So you can cover your eyes when you get scared." She answered their silent questions.

"Scared… are we watching a scary movie?" Clary moaned in anguish.

"Uh, what kind of chick flick is titled _The Exorcist?"_ Jonathan laughed before she shoved his shoulder with her hand. Her brother wasn't fazed, just continued on with his teasing until Jocelyn stepped in and told him to stop. Jace looked at them sternly, following Jocelyn in her chiding. He winked at Clary, making her stomach flutter. _What,_ she thought to herself - distracting momentarily when the sound of kernels popping reached her.

"Josie! The movie's starting!" Jace holler to his fiancee. When she returned, she had a two glass bowls in her hands. Each spilling over with popcorn. Jocelyn handed one to her children, and kept the other for herself and Jace. After kissing his cheek, the movie started.

The first thing Clary saw was _Warner Bros. Picture,_ and a few other credits in red wording before the actual movie started. In the beginning there was nothing but foreign music playing, showing a gray sky and men at work. Clary worried that the true horror would be sitting through the entire movie without complaining. Then, slowly, the plot began to set in. Jocelyn cried out at the character's mother being foolish for letting her daughter play with such a game. Clary and Jonathan both knew that they could do far worse without their mother giving a damn. When the girl was full on possessed, Jonathan would make it his righteous duty to randomly shout _Boo!_ at his sister and mother. Like any normal person, Clary moved away from the suspected threat, burying her head into Jace's shoulder and gripping his arm. He didn't shrug her off or laugh at her fear. Instead - she felt one of his hands touch her own. Comforting her in a way that she never questioned his actions. Was grateful for them. By the time the movie ended, Jocelyn was asleep, resting under the blanket and hogging it from Jace. Jonathan had gone off to his room, muttering a goodnight to them as he left.

"Wow." Clary whispered when the next show came on: _Good Times._ Jace stood up, carrying Jocelyn in his strong arms. "Are you going to sleep?" She asked him.

"Yeah. We have a big day tomorrow. Remember?" Jace questioned. She did. For some reason, as great as a guy seemed to be, she was worried that Jocelyn wasn't the woman for him. He deserved better than her immature mother. Much more.

"Well… I suppose this is goodnight?" Clary asked and Jace nodded his head, walking with Jocelyn in his hold, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. _She was nothing._ Jocelyn didn't deserve a good man like Jace when she'd practically abandoned her children for the entirety of their childhood.

"Follow me, I'll show you your room." Jace prompted. She did as he asked. Trailing after him, down a dark hallway bare of any pictures. _Did he just buy the place?_ Clary wondered to herself. Across from another door that Jace mentioned was his and Jocelyn's bedroom, he pointed at a wooden door. "I didn't really know what you liked, and Josie wasn't much of a help. I had a lady at the store suggest some things. We can always change them," Jace said sleepily as he pushed open the door to his bedroom and disappeared into the darkness.

Clary turned the knob on what was to be her room. She'd never had her own room in nearly a decade. The boarding school always paired people together. So when Clary switched on the light and saw a purple bedsheet that covered a queen sized bed, walls with various sized pictures nailed to them - all tied together with white carpeting - she almost cried. It was the most anyone had done for her in a long, _long_ time. She had her own desk, a few candles stacked here and there. Clary sniffed at them - smelling lavender. _Okay, busy day tomorrow,_ she reminded herself, walking over to the bed and sighing in content when she pulled back the covers, laying down and hearing the air leave the mattress. _Water bed?_ Her palms flatted on the bed, feeling it move under her in waves.

Her last thoughts before drifting off into a deep slumber was her heavy gratitude to Jace. Perhaps him marrying her mother wasn't _so_ bad. Maybe… maybe he'd fit into her family just fine.

* * *

"You look beautiful, Mom." Clary complimented. It was true. Who could deny the dazzling glow that lit up her mother's still youthful face? Jocelyn spun around in her dress, the long white sleeves covering her arms as she placed her hands above her head to keep her hair in order. The dress brushed up against the summer grass made dry by the intense California heat - which intensified inside the small tent they resided in. The neckline wasn't too much, a gentle swoop into Jocelyn chest that left plenty for the imagination of her fiance's friends. A bouquet of flowers lay next to the long mirror, the edges graying as they wilted.

"Ya think so?" Jocelyn grinned at her reflection, patting her hair that was coated in hairspray. She was careful with the flower crown that adorned her stiff locks. Her coppery lashes were lathered in black mascara, cheeks enhanced with a subtle blush. "It isn't too much?" She asked as she lifted up her calf to examine the nude heel. _Heels?_ Clary wondered briefly.

"No. I'm sure Jace will like it!" Clary grinned. Jocelyn leaned into the mirror, applying a thick coat of lipstick on her already pink lips. Clary rolled her bare shoulder, the straps to her dress digging into her creamy skin. It reached mid thigh, something Clary wasn't comfortable with. Not at a _wedding,_ where family members and others were to attend. She had on ballet flats. A wise choice for the grassy terrain.

"Oh! Clary, you don't know how _happy_ that makes me!" Jocelyn squealed, scooting in her heels to reach over and hug her daughter. Clary rolled her eyes at the display of love. Complimenting her mother was one thing, and now she expected physical contact? Did she think that sending her daughter away to a boarding school after her father's death would leave her begging for her mother's love when she returned?

"Careful, Mom. Don't want to smear your makeup." She said in hopes that her mother would agree. Which she did.

"You're right! Sorry. Shit, I can't look like a tramp on my wedding day! _I will not look like a tramp on my wedding day._ " Her mother nodded, swiping under her lined eyes and adjusting the flower crown. Clary fidgeted with the bottom of her dress, praying that it would somehow grow and reach her knees. "I just… weddings make everyone emotional." Jocelyn reasoned. Clary had to agree with her.

"Are you sure about this? You're not going to run off when the priest asks you for your vows?" She asked her mother. Jocelyn guffawed, nearly causing the foundation on her face to fall off. "Seriously, Mom. Jace… he has to be enough for you. There isn't much time you have left for goofing around." Clary continued.

"I appreciate you looking out for me. Really, Clary, I do." Jocelyn smiled. "Jace is… he's all I need right now. And I know… I know haven't been there for you and Jonathan when you were younger. Probably never." Her ink outlined eyes began to water and Clary felt uncomfortable once again as her mother held back tears. "While I can never take that back, I wouldn't want to because I would've never met Jace. I wouldn't have this great man in my life if it weren't for my mistakes as a parent." It was the best her mother could say and Clary decided to just take the apology. Pride be damned.

"Everyone's ready, ladies." Jonathan said as he poked his head into the tent, his eyes closed in case they were dressing. Clary smacked his forehead just for the fun of watching his lids snap open in a glare. "I hope you drip during the father daughter dance." He growled.

"And _I_ hope you catch the flowers when Mom tosses them." Clary said back. Jonathan stepped into the tent, waiting for when his mother was ready so that he could walk her down the aisle. Clary didn't know how her brother felt about the situation. The widow of his dead adoptive father remarrying wasn't something everyone could handle. "Don't fall, Mom." She smiled before exiting the tent. It was close to the beginning of the aisle that was lined with benches full of guests. Clary could imagine this being her wedding, looking forward and seeing Jace give her a grin. The contrast from his tanned skin to the black tux made him appear more than handsome. _Perfect,_ that's what he was when he waved at her from his spot under the wooden arch decorated with flowers and vines. Her heart fluttered, remembering the night before when she'd woken up from a nightmare induced by the traumatic memories of her father's suicide. Him holding her tightly and swearing that none of it was her fault. The skin of his bare chest was warm against her cheek, his muscle-wrapped arms providing the perfect cushion for her small frame as she whimpered against him. She felt completely safe in that moment, knowing that he'd always be there to protect her from both personal demons and the real ones.

Clary waved back at Jace, her small hand gracing through the heated air. He flashed her a toothy grin that made her pulse race for whatever reason.

The wedding was perfect.

Jocelyn had blubbered like an idiot in front of her husband when he said his vows, her barely managing to say _I do_ before the priest cleared his throat. The kiss they shared had done something to Clary. It just… made her feel empty? No, empty wasn't the word. Pained? Yes, pained. Was it because her mother was the happiest person in the large room they moved into for the wedding reception? That would be jealousy, which… fit her mood exactly. Jealous because her reckless mother was getting everything she ever dreamed of having. Jealous because the man dancing with her was perhaps the nicest person she'd _ever_ met. Probably _will_ ever meet.

"And now time for the father-daughter dance!" The snapping beat that the band began to play was familiar. Jace approached her, hand extended with a grin on his face that made her stomach roll in anticipation. When her hand gently lay in his palm, he jerked her into a standing position - the guests laughing as she blushed furiously, keeping her eyes on Jace and trying her best to imagine that they weren't there. That it was just Jace and Clary.

" _I've got sunshine, on a cloudy day."_ The singer started after they made it to the dance floor - alone. Jace's hands were on Clary's hips, his eyebrows raising when he felt them wider than what he thought them to be. The tips of her ears turned pink though he could not see them as her fiery hair was down. Her hands rested on his biceps as he moved them around in various circles.

" _My girl!"_ The chorus sang after the initial phrase, Jace dipping her quickly and then picking her back up again with a sparkle to his eyes. His mouth came close to her ear, whispering the lyrics into it.

" _I don't need no money, fortune or fame. I've got all the riches, baby, one man can claim."_ Jace sang quietly. The words were all too real for their situation. The smile fell from her face, wanting so badly to believe that he was just repeating the song. Though with each sentence he repeated to her, they held a heavy amount of emotion in them. To ignore them would be foolish on her part. The guests clapped their hands and joined the floor, dancing at their side. Clary noticed Jocelyn dancing with Jace's brother Alec, Jonathan pretending to be the woman and spinning at Charles' command (the fact that her oldest brother here was shocking enough.)

"Can I start calling you Daddy?" She teased, cringing when she played the words back in her head. Jace laughed softly in her ear, his hands gripping her waist gently as moved her hips with his. It wasn't a typical father-daughter dance, but who cared? Clary was eighteen, Jocelyn was emotionally younger than her husband that was physically younger, and Jace was the stepfather of three kids that were all adults - and not a single one of them being his biological child. Things were crazy, so who gave a shit about the fact that her heart did a little skip when he moved his hands lower or higher?

"Maybe." Jace grinned, taking her hand and spinning her. "Depends," he shrugged when she was back against his chest.

"Depends?" She questioned.

"Yeah. I can be _really_ possessive with my girls." Jace explained, the back of his hand momentarily touching the thin strap of her dress. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. "For example; I want to cover you with a blanket so these guys don't get to see a single inch of your long legs and creamy back." He whispered into her ear. She shivered as he withdrew his hand from the strap and back to her hips, although his thumb brushed against her thigh. When Clary looked up, her nose brushed against his chin.

"Maybe I need someone like that. After I've gone my entire life being left unclaimed." She suggested. Her breath hit his skin and she watched him close his eyes momentarily before dipping her once again. Holding her to hover closely to the floor, his eyes roaming her face as she clung to him for support.

"And… maybe I want to take care of you." Jace breathed down her neck just as the song ended. His lips brushed against her cheek as he lifted his head, dampening it with a soft kiss. He left her standing there, Jocelyn running to his side and going on about taking a few pictures with his siblings. Clary touched her fingertips to the cheek his lips had graced, the skin warm and sensitive. Her heart thumping away. Thumping still when she saw Jocelyn put her arm under Jace's for the picture they were taking.

Yes, you could say that she was jealous.

* * *

 **AN: How was the first chapter? Did the J/J throw you off? If anyone is wondering; the missing girls were hinting at Ted Bundy (who was a serial killer during the 70s.) I tried to make this setting as realistic as possible with the _Embassy_ cigarettes and including _The Exorcist/_ certain songs.**

 **Please let me know if I should pursue this as a story by reviewing!**


	2. Lucky Hat

"Alright, so the rules of baseball are pretty simple…" Jace said, worn ball in one hand, cigarette in the other. Jonathan nodded, trying to fit his hold the wooden baseball bat comfortably. This was, perhaps, the only time he used a bat for sport, and not for juvenile delinquency. Though, he wasn't a kid anymore. Jace already told him that when he 'sassed' his adoptive mother.

Clary smiled at his interest, leaning against the concrete steps of the back door. Her cotton shirt rode up her stomach, exposing its creamy skin. Providing a nice breeze to combat the California heat. She had to cut a pair of jeans to situate to the hot weather, unlike the New York chill, which kept her relatively comfortable.

Clary had found herself forgetting New York with everyday that she resided in her home state. Jocelyn hadn't quite adjusted to the role of a mother, barely accepting that she was committed to one man. _Baby steps,_ Clary reminded herself. She had Jonathan, someone who had practically raised her - besides her father, _real father._ And she had Jace. Funny, caring, considerate, sweet.. The redhead sighed to herself, shaking her curls past her shoulders and adjusting her thoughts.

Jocelyn had set out a tray of lemonade for them, standing by it, ready for her husband to get even the slightest thirst for it.

"You see this ball?" Jace questioned Jonathan, to which he nodded, brows furrowed in concentration. "When I throw it to you, I want you to hit it. Understand?" He ordered in a gravely voice, or, as Clary like to call, his 'dad' voice. Jace liked to use it on the two of them often. Which was strange, because the man didn't have a serious bone in his toned, strong…

"And what if I don't hit it?" Jonathan asked, interrupting Clary's thoughts.

"Nonsense. With strong arms like that, I'm sure you will." The other man answered, blowing a puff of cigarette smoke out of his lips. One of his calloused hands reached up towards the blue cap on his head, pulling it off and letting the golden locks spring free from their fabric prison. "But just in case, here," Jace tossed the cap towards Jonathan. "My father gave me this.. said it was for good luck." He talked around his burning cigarette.

"Was - is it?" Her adoptive brother asked. Clary leaned in, head balanced on her closed fists, sharing the same curiosity Jonathan had. Jocelyn took sips out of her lemonade, smiling towards the pair.

"I'll be honest, it sounded like horse shit. Total _horse shit_." A smirk caused Jace to hold on to his cigarette, blowing a puff of the nicotine contents into the California atmosphere. He tossed the baseball in his hand, staring at it momentarily. Clary wanted so badly to know what he was thinking about, the memories he was reliving. To have an old mind, but a young face… it must've been amazing. "But when I went to my first baseball game, damn thing worked!" He chuckled. Jonathan looked down at the cap, ran his fingers over the worn fabric of the lid, nodded once, then placed it over his own blond head with a satisfied expression. Jace grinned at the younger man, tossing the baseball. Once again, his face grew into a concentrated scowl, cigarette back in his mouth where it belonged.

"Throw it," Jonathan said under his breath, adjusting the baseball bat in his grip, bending his knees slightly. Clary wanted to lean it, but was wary of her brother's first swing. Somewhere, in the background of this momentous moment, Jocelyn was pouring herself another glass of lemonade, not the least bit concerned of her adoptive son's possible success.

The ball was thrown. Clary willed her eyes to remain on Jonathan instead of closing in a violent flinch. She watched as it made contact with the wood of the bad, the thunderous crack being heard across the suburban neighbourhood. Jocelyn cheered; clapping her manicured nails and ran to Jonathan in celebration. He couldn't tear his eyes off of the flying baseball. His jaw hung loose, along with his arms.

Clary's gaze travelled the backyard, greeting Jace's. She gave a faint smile, while he returned it with a sheepish grin, slopily shaking his golden head. She felt her pulse race, hands grow clammy, and stomach flip a million times. Deciding to join in on the incessant squealing of her mother, Clary sprinted towards her adoptive brother, as did Jace.

Stopping only when they hear the shattering of a window.

"Shit," Jace cursed, his head snapping back to the shouts of neighbours. Jonathan began his apology, being cut off by his mother who pulled on his hand and tugged him towards the back door of the house. A nervous laugh left Jace's lips as the shouting grew louder. "Guess that's our que to leave!" He huffed. Clary let out a gasp when his hands met her skin. She was lifted up, feet leaving the ground and dangling in the air as Jace hurriedly carried her into the house. His expression appeared humored as she stared up at him with wide green eyes - noticing that his cigarette was no longer there. Clary felt so comfortable against his sturdy frame, sighing in content with herself as he jogged up the front steps and led her into the living room.

And their moment was over.

Jace ran a hand through his golden curls, listening to Jocelyn's excited prattle. Jonathan still wore a shocked expression, hands shaking from the unintended breaking of a neighbour's window.

"But… I didn't mean it this time!" He blurted. Quickly, his eyes were on Jace, a deep scowl darkening them to an impossible obsidian. "You! You said _this,_ " Jonathan tore the baseball cap from his head, "was lucky!" He cried. Jace nodded at his previous words of the supposedly lucky hat.

"Jonathan, do you know what a home run is?" Jace question in his fatherly voice.

"Um, no!" The younger blond snapped. Jace nodded, stroking his chiseled jaw line. They all waited patiently for his response.

"Well, Jonathan, according to baseball rules, that distance the ball traveled makes it a home run." Jace clarified. Jocelyn clapped excitedly, taking the cap out of Jonathan's angered grip and placing it back on his head.

"See! It _is_ lucky!" Clary's mother laughed, kissing her adoptive son's cheek before going to Jace's side, nudging her daughter away.

"Whatever," Jonathan growled. There was an angry knock at the door, making all heads snap towards it. The legal siblings gave an apologetic smile to Jace as he reached into the pocket of his pants, probably to pull out his wallet. Clary made her way towards Jonathan, holding onto his muscled arm, giving a tug on it when her brother initially refused to look down at her. "What?" He asked.

"You're not going to throw away the hat, right?" She asked him.

"Damn baseball." Clary heard Jace huff as he walked towards the front door, his slightly older wife at his side, waddling on her pink stilettos.

"Why would I keep this thing?" Her brother questioned, plucking the worn cap from his head. "It's old and smells like sweat _and_ cigarettes!" Jonathan grimaced. "The only thing it will do is drive away any potential lays."

"But Jace's _dad_ gave it to him. It's sentimental. Plus, Jace said it was lucky, or something along the lines of that…" Clary reasoned. Her mouth hung open when her brother pulled her hand towards him and placed the _sentimental_ cap on it. "What are you doing?" She asked.

"Think it's so special, why don't you keep it?" Jonathan answered, holding her small hand in his larger, more calloused one. "S'posed to be lucky. And you, Clarissa, need some luck." He grinned down at her. She shrugged, placing it over her red curls.

* * *

" _Hotel receipts?!"_ Clary heard Jace yell from the living room. Both her and Jonathan were in their rooms, hoping to ignore the incessant arguing. As their marriage progressed, so did the fighting. Though, the couple did have their romantic moments, such as when they'd go out to a fancy restaurant, or go on long walks. She wondered if that was enough to keep the married couple together.

" _I need to have fun, Jace! What's so wrong with that?"_ Her mother shouted back, probably using her signature shove in a battle of volume. Clary rolled her eyes, remembering the times when it was _Valentine_ and Jocelyn fighting. The only difference was that Valentine didn't care much for being shouted at, and often used the back of his hand to prove this point. " _It's boring here!"_

" _Fuck that! I don't care if I'm the boringest person on the goddamn planet! I'm still your husband, Jocelyn!"_ He argued back. Clary got up from her bed, placing her ear against the wall across from her. She wanted to know what her brother was up to, if he was silent as well. From this advantage, Clary could hear the sound of feet shuffling around on the shaggy carpet that was the floor of his bedroom. It was likely that he was pacing. _Her poor brother._

" _They look at me, Jace! They look me in the eyes when they talk to me! They listen to me!"_ Jocelyn fired back. This interested Clary, making her take her ear off the wall. She hadn't noticed that Jace was losing affection for her mother. It was his affection that spurred her jealousy on- " _And don't you dare talk about commitment, you hypocrite! I know you've found someone else. But you used your heart instead of your-"_

There was a hard slam heard across the house. It frightened Clary. Jace had never seemed like the man to use physical force to get what he wanted… was she wrong about him? Silence immediately followed, then was replaced by a woman's hysteric laughter. " _Go ahead, hit the damn walls. I'm not staying to watch you destroy the house."_ Her mother snickered. Now Clary wanted to hit her mother.

" _Where the hell are you going?"_ Jace growled.

" _Out!"_ The front door slammed shut, making Clary tremble. She stood in the middle of her room, stuck between going back to bed, or opening the door and comforting Jace. But… how could she? What could someone say to console a person going through what was to be assumed as the end of their marriage? Plus, Clary was practically a carbon copy of her mother. It wouldn't provide any emotional ease to Jace to see the ghost of the woman that had left him.

No, it wouldn't help at all.

So Clary thought long and hard. Still standing despite the tiredness of her knees. Her eyes remained on the floor, bottom lip between her pearly teeth. The first time she moved in her eternity of standing, it was toward the record player cabinet that Jace had bought her. She bent over, reaching for an album that was sure to calm him. At least, it calmed _her_ when her parents had fought.

It wasn't long after the song began to play that Clary heard footsteps down the hall. In walked Jace, red eyes, and drooping face. Quickly, she reached for the baseball cap to cover her red locks. When Jace lifted his amber eyes to her green ones, Clary witnessed the tremble of his knees. She didn't know how to react. Should she hug him? Talk to him?

"Dance with me." She blurted. Jace nodded, stumbling to her, into her thin arms, sniffling quietly. His calloused hands clamped down on her exposed midriff, his nose brushing against her throat. Originally, her hands were at the base of his neck, but soon were rubbing his back, coaxing each sob out of him. "I'm sorry… for my mother. I'm sorry she hurt you." Clary whispered to him.

"You're wearing the lucky hat." Jace pointed out in his hoarse voice, changing the subject. He pulled away from her neck, one calloused hand caressing her cheek. "My lucky hat." The blond murmured. Clary's cheeks reddened as he touched the cap, pulling it from her head and allowing her curls to spring free. "I like your hair… hats aren't for you, Clarissa."

She shook her head, sheepishly grinning. "You know I don't like it when people call me that." Clary reminded him.

"But I'm not just some person." Jace countered softly. Clary nodded. This was true. He was so, so much more than that.

"I know. You're my step father." She saw him visibly flinch at the title, subtly frowning, turning his head to face one side of the room.

He scoffed. "Not for much longer."

Clary pursed her lips, running her hands to adjust the messy collar of Jace's shirt. "Is what she said true? Do you really like someone else." She wanted to curse herself for asking, but the question was burning in her throat, dying to be answered before it spread to the rest of her body.

"It wasn't supposed to happen," Jace reasoned. "I… I didn't think any attraction would build, but it did. I forced it down, but Jocelyn saw it happening… I haven't… I haven't been able to touch her." Her green eyes were sparkling, The Carpenters' _Close To You_ playing in the background. Clary stared at his lips, wondering if the word's had really left his mouth, or if she had just imagined them. She nearly jumped when he let out a chuckle. "You wanna get a drink?" Jace asked her.

"A drink?" She questioned.

"Yeah, as in _liquor:_ something that smells of sin, but feels like heaven once it's settled." He clarified. Clary thought for a second, debating whether drinking with her distraught step father was a good idea… but then she thought of how amazing it felt to be in his presence, how immensely gratifying it was to be in his arms, to talk to him… nothing could reason her out of a situation like that.

"Okay." She nodded, adjusting her jean skirt once his hands left her.

"Come on. Jocelyn keeps a stocked liquor cabinet in the kitchen." He took her small hand and guided her out of the room. Her stomach was spinning, head turning when they passed Jonathan's room. Another sign that she shouldn't take his offer to drink with him.

And yet, she persevered.

"Wanna feel good?" Jace asked her with a sly grin on his tanned face. Clary returned the grin and took the bottle of golden liquid out of his hands, taking a few gulps of it. The drink burned its way down to her stomach, warming her skin and making her want more, more, _more._ "Slow down, sweetheart, there's more where that came from." He chuckled. A heated blush lit her cheeks once again as she took yet another bottle out of his large hands.

"What's this?" Clary asked.

"Don't know, must've been a wedding gift." Jace shrugged. When he talked, the stench of liquor reached her nose. But when her eyes met his, there was this look of seriousness in them, one that hadn't shone since their dance together as father and daughter.

Several drinks and curse words later, they found themselves talking about her stay in New York. "So," Jace languidly began. "You mean to tell me you got this matching tattoo with a boy you barely knew?" He laughed. Clary answered with a shake of her head.

"Stupid, right?" She asked. The blond scratched the back of his head, stretching the muscles of his arms as he did so.

"What happened?" Jace asked.

"He left." Clary answered.

"Left?" He repeated, leaning in close, eyes an unusual dark for their normally bright color. Again, she nodded. "His loss." Jace muttered, more to himself than to her. Her face fell, remembering the day Sebastian was missing from the motel room they had stayed in.

"Yeah… his loss." She whispered. Her arms was grasped by warm fingers, Jace looking at her with wondering eyes.

"I mean it. He'll regret losing you, Clary." When she didn't agree to his statement, his hands moved down, down to her exposed stomach. "Do you ever look at yourself? Hot doesn't _begin_ to describe you. You're above beautiful… _more_ than unique. I can't think of a word that can do you justice, Clarissa." He swore, hands still at her stomach. His mouth was so, _so close_ to hers. She could practically taste the words as they left his lips. And it wasn't enough for her. She craved more of him. More of the closeness.

She stretched her hand out, placing it on the one he had on her stomach. Her green eyes searched into his, silently begging him to show her, to cross a line that was was marked forbidden. A side they could never venture.

He licked his lips, staring at hers afterwards. _Do it, please, please do it,_ Clary chanted over in her head. But there wasn't a way for them to begin. They weren't drunk enough, and saying so would be a lie. They'd remember it so clearly the next day… something she didn't mind.

"Clary…" Jace hummed to himself. She understood without him needing to ask. He couldn't touch her, not without some sort of verification that she wanted this. That she wanted to start something that there was no pleasant ending to.

And did she want to?

Yes.

Her lips couldn't reach his fast enough, even with the miniscule distance between them. He tasted sweet. He tasted of forbidden fruit. Of sin, of lust, of everything she wanted, but could not have. His lips were soft, like stolen silk. Like gentle waters of a land she could never visit. His tongue massaged hers, danced with hers, battled with hers, defeated hers, yet left her satisfied. _More, more, more,_ her heart pumped with each needy beat.

Over the short course of their kissing, she was moaning into his mouth, whimpering when his hand raised to cup her breast. " _Jace,"_ she breathed out, begging for more than what was already too much for her to comprehend.

" _Clary,"_ he gasped between the suction of kisses. His hand left her chest, lowering to her hips where the other was waiting. In a flash, her lips were against nothing but cold air, and she was against the counter. Jace gripped her curls between his fingers, placing it over one shoulder. Clary was about to cry for the comfort of his mouth before she felt a wet softness against her neck.

" _Oh, oh…"_ She moaned, gripping the marble counter till her knuckles were white.

"You taste so… I need more." Jace growled against her dampened neck, kissing and sucking it till there was no taste left. His mouth wandered down, while his hand raised her shirt to where he could kiss at her back. She was panting like a dog, a mongrel, all because of his doing. Clary heard the sound of his knees resting on the tile floor before his kisses were marking her thighs like a map made of sweet saliva.

" _More,"_ she agreed, spreading her legs. His fingers dug into tender flesh, holding her still as he continued to kiss her body, reaching closer and closer to where she needed him most. "Jace, please," Clary moaned. His mouth left her legs, and she wasn't allowed to question it before she was roughly spun back around to face him, gasping at the sheer lust swimming in his darkened eyes.

Jace's lips returned to her swollen mouth, tongue prodding at her own. Clary's hands clawed down his back, making him groan hot air between her lips. His hands dug at her thigh, lifting them to wrap around his waist. She could feel him, desperate and hungry between her legs. Grinding his carnal needs into her core.

Clary's skirt had ridden far up her stomach, and with an agitated grunt, Jace reached into their moving bodies to tug at the buttons. She slowed down for him, wanting to gasp when he he ripped the jean fabric off of her, tossing it somewhere she wasn't able to see before his mouth was back against hers. _More,_ her mind demanded.

Her thin fingers grasped at the button of his jeans. This time, it was him who slowed down as she removed an article of clothing off of him. Well, not really. He did most of the work, kicking his jeans, and then boxers down. Calloused fingers tugged at her panties, making her sigh in relief when he slipped them off her creamy legs, staying in his crouched position.

"Jace, what are you-" She was cut off mid sentence when she felt a velvet touch against her most sensitive area. Her mouth hung loose as he licked and sucked between her legs. She felt his hair against her fingers, pushing him to her, against her so that she could grind against his mouth.

 _More…_

His lips were pressed back against hers, hardness against her softness. _More,_ her hungry mind screamed as he lifted her thigh to wrap around his waist once again. He teased at her entrance, making her feel him throb. Her hands scratched at the skin of his shoulders, of his back. When he sunk into her, it took all her strength not to scream out in relief. As if she were on fire, and this was the cool water that would save her from the biting flames.

" _Fuck,"_ He breathed, thrusting between her thighs. She whimpered against his ear, moving her hips to take him deeper. His hot breath fanned across her face, making sweat bead at a faster rate. "You… You're so tight." Jace grunted. Clary cried out, her walls constricting him as he continued to piston his hips.

"Oh my-" Her voice was cut off as he silence her with his slick mouth. She held onto his biceps as he gripped her fleshy thighs, allowing him to go deeper than any boy ever had.

"God, tell me you're close." Jace hissed. Clary nodded her head. He slipped out of her, making Clary her want to scream at the loss of him. He flipped her around, making her lean against the marble counter, knuckles turning a ghastly shade of white as she held on for all she was worth - him pounding her from behind. She was practically being fucked within an inch of her life.

Sweat dripped into her eyes with the energy she was putting forth. For a moment, Clary swore she saw something in the distance. A white blond staring blankly - making eye contact with his adoptive sister as Jace moved inside her. She cried out to alert Jace, but it soon was her way of releasing the pent up orgasm. Jace stiffened, spilling his own release inside of her. His head landed on Clary's back as he caught his breath.

She watched as the white blond walked back into his room, too exhausted to chase after him.

* * *

 **A/N: _Please review and tell me what you think of the chapter!_**


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